Lonely Fashionisto
by MemoryWish
Summary: Good-old-Gord gets booted out of his clique, so reluctantly he makes new friends, new enemies and a brand new lover. "'Loneliness was perhaps a disease,' He thought idly, 'one that spread amongst the lower classes like the plague.'" Jimmy/Gord SLASH
1. Down Classing

**Lonely Fashionisto**

**Warnings:** Language, Adult Situations and Slash Pairings – If you don't like it, please leave quietly.

**Pairings:** Jimmy/Gord, Petey/Gord (Friendship) and eventually a little bit of Gary/Petey is inevitable somewhere along the line. ;P

**Rating:** M (eventually)

**Summary:** When good-old-Gordo gets booted out of his clique, he makes new friends, new enemies and a brand new lover. "'Loneliness was perhaps a disease,' He thought idly, 'one that spread amongst the lower classes like the plague.'" Jimmy/Gord SLASH

**Disclaimer:** I (unfortunately) don't own these characters. They belong to Rockstar (as far as I know). If I did own them then you can bet your little cotton socks that there'd be plenty more man-lovin' ;)

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**Chapter One:** **Down Classing**

It was a particularly cold day in Old Bullworth Vale and with a stubborn sniff; a certain snobby rich kid pulled his scarf up to warm his face. Gord had been walking around in the snow for hours and was quickly beginning to tire of it. Around him the very trees were shivering with the biting wind. And even the settled snow was beginning to ice over in response to the frosty gale. Rubbing his hands together in a vain attempt to generate some heat, he mentally noted to take revenge on the Hopkins boy for taking his summer-house sanctuary from him.

Wandering down the pier he noticed the increasing amount of people that, like him, were walking alone. 'Loneliness was perhaps a disease,' he thought idly, 'one that spread amongst the lower classes like the plague.' Of course with the weather like it was, he would have liked to just curl up back at Harrington's house with some hot cocoa and to admire the brand new addition to his collection of expensive clothes (a particularly ravishing cobalt Aquaberry sweater-vest tat, dare he say, looked marvellous on him). Sadly though, that wasn't an option. After Derby had discovered that Gord had been "fraternising" with those of a lower class (Bif and Parker had been especially horrified to learn that he had technically shared an indirect kiss with Algernon Papadopoulos courtesy of Lola Lombardi) he had been promptly kicked out of the boxing club and effectively the clique itself.

Taking a sombre seat on one of the cold, wet benches adorning the pier, he drew his knees up and wrapped his shaking arms around them. If he couldn't hang around with the other preps any more, where would he go? Absently he wondered if any of the other cliques would take him in. Certainly the greasers wouldn't but maybe the jocks or the bullies would have an opening for someone as physically capable as him. An extra pair of hands would probably go a long way for the severely lacking football team. Heck, he would even try his hand at cheerleading if he had to.

He tried to imagine himself getting flung into the mud in his no doubt overpriced sportswear and shuddered a little at the thought (though the idea of striking up a nice conversation about shoes with Kirby Olsen was an ever promising possibility). Maybe the jocks could make do without _this particular_ well-dressed reject. Hard though it was to think of fitting in with the sports fans, trying to picture himself holding up some tortured soul by the scruff of his neck was harder. The bullies were even less stylised than the gorilla-built football team and just the very idea of having to touch the filthy, ignorant paupers roaming the school (even if it was to pick on them) was rather torturous.

Letting out a ragged, shaky breath he buried his head into his knees. He hadn't been sat there for long, just thinking, and already a thin layer of snow was resting on his arms and head. Not bothering to shake it off (and secretly hoping that perhaps the teachers would mistake him for a sleeping hobo as opposed to a troublesome truant who had skipped school that day) he simply buried his head further into the warmth his self-administered hug generated.

The slow, deliberate sounds of cautiously approaching footsteps met his ears. He didn't bother to look up, hoping that it wasn't the police and figuring that anyone wanting his attention could damn-well get it for themselves. An unexpected hand on his shoulder made him flinch but he didn't look up until a quiet voice enquired, "Are you okay mister?" The voice was familiar and for once not at all unpleasant.

Slowly, he raised his head (trying his best to ignore the fact that even if he wasn't out of high school yet people were already calling him mister). "Oh," the boy the voice belonged to gasped as he came to a sudden realisation, "I'm sorry, I thought maybe you were hurt or in trouble or-" He paused in his ramblings as he noticed the slight puffy, red area around Gord's eyes. Taking a seat beside him the boy gave him a comforting smile. "You...You're Gord, right? Gord Vendome?"

After surveying the boy and deciding he was no threat, he nodded. "I don't know if you've seen me around school. I'm Pete, Pete Kowalski." He greeted. Gord blinked as Pete held out a hand to be shook. He glared down at the offered hand as though it were made of sewer slime but sighed in resignation and uncurled himself to shake it. "I was wondering where I knew you from. Of course with friends like yours I had just assumed the zoo." Feeling less gloomy with his new found company, Gord smiled weakly.

Slipping easily into polite (well polite by Gord's standards) conversation, Gord took his time to examine young Pete. The boy was slim and limber with pretty brown curls and a startling smile. He lightly clawed the edge of the bench as he spoke and had the most curious habit of gesturing with his hands when nervous. They had only been speaking to one another for a little while and already Gord's mood had picked up. He wondered then if it would have been the same no matter who had sat beside him or if perhaps this particular young man just held a friendly air.

"Hey Peter, if you're not doing anything today, we should go do something," he suggested casually. Pete was taken aback. "You want to hang out...with _me_?" Gord merely chuckled, "If you see any other Peter's about they're welcome to come too. Though really, I had wanted you." Pete smiled to himself; he had been included by someone. Exclusively even. He smiled at the thought and turned to his new-found friend. "Well in that case, where are we going?"

Tongues would wag against them, Gord knew, wherever they chose to go. Though in that moment, even if his hand was touching mass-produced clothing, even if he could smell the faint scent of cheap cologne, he couldn't bring himself to care. His knew companion may have been a down class financially, but in all the time he had spent with the crowd at Harrington House he couldn't remember a time he had laughed so sincerely.

"How about the carnival?"

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**Possibly the shortest first chapter ever but I hope you enjoyed it. For a while I think it'll seem a little Gord/Petey but I assure you, they are no more than friends. X-X**

**Also I'm still very knew to this (the only other fic I ever wrote was abandoned after three short chapters) so if you see me backing into a plot-hole, please shout it out.**

**I'm currently angsting due to the fact that I had to type this whole thing out twice _ If you spot any mistakes, again, please tell me and I'll fix them, ta.**

**R n' R Much love Dristina (aka. MemoryWish)**


	2. Carnival

**Lonely Fashionisto**

**Warnings: **Language, Adult Situations and Slash Pairings – If you don't like it, please leave quietly.

**Pairings: **Jimmy/Gord, Petey/Gord (Friendship) and eventually a little bit of Gary/Petey is inevitable somewhere along the line. ;P

**Rating: **M (eventually)

**Summary: **When good-old-Gordo gets booted out of his clique, he makes new friends, new enemies and a brand new lover. "'Loneliness was perhaps a disease,' He thought idly, 'one that spread amongst the lower classes like the plague.'" Jimmy/Gord SLASH

**Disclaimer:** I (unfortunately) don't own these characters. They belong to Rockstar (as far as I know). If I did own them then you can bet your little cotton socks that there'd be plenty more man-lovin' ;)

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**Chapter Two: Carnival**

Peter covered his ears as (once again) a stout carnie met the water with a shrill squeal. Gord held off his celebratory dance for just a moment to ask if he had a headache. They had been at the carnival for nearly an hour and already the boys were sporting: a teddy bear each; a girlie poster, which Petey had promptly decided to give to Jimmy and chipped front teeth (that rollercoaster was a right bitch).

They had been lucky enough to not run into the preps yet but Gord knew that it was only a matter of time. In fact even as the thought crossed his mind he swore he heard a jeering faux-British call. Maybe it was just paranoia but every flash of blue between the stalls set him on edge. Peter had noticed his new friend's growing discomfort but decided it'd be better to distract him than enquire. So, with a cheerful grin, he happily hauled Gord toward the go-karts.

Slipping into the seat, Gord recalled racing the Hopkins boy on those very tracks. He remembered all of his losses with painful clarity after all. Not only was it a harsh memory of defeat but an agonizing reminder that he had been banished from his clique. Realisation dawned on him that there was a higher chance of Jimmy Hopkins or Gary Smith being acknowledged now than him. 'Now there was a charming thought,' he pondered bitterly.

Just as Peter took off in his go-kart, Gord wondered how he coped. Not only had he put up with the same ostracized status but for much longer. Though even with that same pain, that same nagging loneliness, Peter had managed to find happiness, friendship even, in those around him; even those people who were likely to end up in Happy Volts one day. Gord made up his mind then that no matter what happened from then on. Whether Derby took him back or not, he would do his best to make light of things. He would find a way to enjoy life, just as Peter did. Starling out of his solemn evaluation he pushed forward in his go-kart. As if he was going to let some femme-boy beat him!

The two boys stumbled, chuckling, into the boys dorms later that night, just as the prefects were beginning their rounds. Petey paused at the door to his room. He hadn't expected to have fun that day; He had honestly just wanted to cheer the rich boy up. Standing there, outside the darkened room though, he couldn't help but grin. "So, hey," he prodded, trying to not sound too desperate, "Doing anything tomorrow, Gord?" It wasn't like either of them had anyone else to spend time with.

Gord reached over to ruffle the younger boys already dishevelled curls. "Well I _had_ been planning to mope around in the Vale all day, but if you've a better plan, I think I can cancel." He teased. Scoffing, Pete moved the older teens offending hand from the top of his head. "So…See you tomorrow?" He timidly called, to Gord's retreating back. The rich boy half turned and smiled over his shoulder, "Sure." And then he was gone, wandering off somewhere to the other end of the corridor.

Whirling Petey wandered into the dark room, humming gently. There was no one there to wake up anyway. Well, at least that's what he first thought.

"Having fun?"

Peter should have known _he'd_ be there already.

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**Oooh and the gravy…I mean, plot…thickens! **ಥ**v**ಥ **My procrastination hasn't kicked in just yet, lets all hope it holds out until the end! _**

**R n' R Much love Dristina (aka. MemoryWish)**


	3. Egoist's Reason

**Lonely Fashionisto**

**Warnings: **Language, Adult Situations and Slash Pairings – If you don't like it, please leave quietly.

**Pairings: **Jimmy/Gord, Petey/Gord (Friendship) and eventually a little bit of Gary/Petey is inevitable somewhere along the line. (Told you ¦D)

**Rating: **M (Now.)

**Summary: **When good-old-Gordo gets booted out of his clique, he makes new friends, new enemies and a brand new lover. "'Loneliness was perhaps a disease,' He thought idly, 'one that spread amongst the lower classes like the plague.'" Jimmy/Gord SLASH

**Disclaimer:** I (unfortunately) don't own these characters. They belong to Rockstar (as far as I know). If I did own them then you can bet your little cotton socks that there'd be plenty more man-lovin' ;)

**Author's Note:** OMGOMGOMG. I've never written anything like this before *panics* so I apologise right now. And I'm sorry, no Jimmy or Gord in this chapter D: Despite this being a Jimmy/Gord fic I was feeling more Gary/Pete inspired. So I figured writing some of that instead might re-kindle my Jimmy/Gord fire ;D. It worked too 8D. The next chapter is what happened whilst this one was going on from Gord's P.O.V.

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**Chapter Three: Egoist's Reason**

That night had been awkward. No matter how hard Peter tried to sleep, he could feel those cold, dark eyes bearing into his back, pinning him there, keeping him awake. Silence from the other side of the room would have fooled any other boy into the false sense of security that Gary was asleep. Not Petey though, he _knew_ Gary was awake. He could feel the other boy's slightest movement and smallest breath as though they were his own. And the feeling was keeping him from that much needed sleep.

A few hours of restless turning and relentless agitation later, he sat up and stared over, meeting the intimidating gaze of his unusual roommate. "What do you want, Gary?" Pete grumbled, doing his best to keep said gaze with his own tired glare. "I want to know what exactly you were doing tonight with that Vendome boy," came the snide reply. Sighing Pete decided that yes, it was going to be a long night. Sitting up, he pulled the duvet back from his pale, warm legs and, with a gentle shiver, placed his feet onto the cold floor. "We went to the carnival," Pete grumbled, "What's your problem?"

Silence stretched. Gary was mulling over his answer in his rather busy head, that much was clear, though what replies he was considering eluded the smaller boy. "I don't like it." He finally settled with. Pete blinked. '_He doesn't like it,_' he thought incredulously. 'What's _that _supposed to mean!?' He was neither stupid nor brave enough to say that of course, though he did muster up enough strength to mumble a quiet, "why?" Oh how he wished he didn't.

A dark light crept into the taller boys eyes. "Why?" wasn't a question that he wanted to answer just yet. Rising from his already threatening height, Gary stalked across the room. Instinctively, Petey began to crawl backwards on his bed. This only seemed to encourage him though and with a few short steps he was looming over him, that god-forsaken grin of his spread across his face.

When Pete's bare back touched the wall he twitched at the cold and gasped on impulse, closing his eyes for just a second. He felt Gary's weight join him on the old mattress, a knee on either side of his trembling body. A harsh chuckle met his ears and he slowly opened his eyes. A grinning Gary was looking back, hand reaching out to brush Petey's unclothed chest. "Here knows why," a voice purred into his ears, brushing cold fingers over a pert nipple. Squirming, Pete tried his best to push at the other boy's shoulders, though his shoves were half-hearted and his resolve was quickly weakening.

"G-Gary, please…don't mess with me," Pete tried. "Have I ever listened to that plea before?" Gary replied, lifting a hand to pull the shorter boy into a fervent kiss. Pete had to admit, even shaking in fear that the taller boy was toying with him yet again, even with the cold wall on his back, even though he wasn't doing it willingly, his body was starting to react to Gary's hot tongue against his own.

That sinful hand on his chest was grabbing hold of any available flesh; the socio-path's other burying itself into Pete's brown curls, pulling him further into the kiss. A soft moan escaped his slightly parted lips, echoing around the room in the strangest way. He was glad though, that it wasn't just him being vocal, he was sure he would have been teased relentlessly if it weren't for the rough groans emitted by his partner.

Breathing hard, Gary pulled back from the breathless boy, hand trailing painfully slowly down that quaking chest. "S-Stop it," Pete gasped writhing in his grasp. "I'm teaching you a lesson," the older boy teased, bending his neck to lick a trail along the other's jaw. "What…lesson…?" Petey breathed, back arched and voice unnaturally high. "You're mine," Was the quick reply before his hand slipped past the waistband of the other boy's shorts.

A loud moan broke from his throat as icy fingers wrapped around his throbbing length, moving at a torturously slow pace. "But….I...I have to keep everybody happy…" Gary moved from the spot he had made a purple mark on Pete's neck to kiss down his chest, lower and lower. "It's…it's my duty as, AH, as head…head-boy!" The deliciously deviant mirth that the taller boy gave told him that was the wrong thing to say. "Head-boy, was it?" He grinned, yanking down Pete's tented boxers and taking him as far as he could into that still smirking mouth.

All coherent thought left his mind as he was taken into that warm, moist, accommodating cavern. "Ahh! G-G-aa-ahh!" Now flat on his back, Pete had taken to biting his lip to keep from yelling out, but could barely contain it as he watched the worryingly skilled boy bob up and down between his legs. He was shocked to find one of Gary's hands holding his hips down and the other grasped comfortingly in his own.

Licking up the underside of the other boys pulsing member, he took the head into his mouth and hummed appreciatively. Pete was close. Gripping Gary's short hair he forced the psychopath's head down further, a groan ripping from his throat as he did. A little bit longer, a little more. "Ahh, ahhn, Ah Ga-Gary, Pl-please, F-Faster," he was moaning, toes curling with pleasant feelings.

Gary's hand slipped out of his to unzip his own pants and to stroke himself off. The rapid motion of the hand jerking off his tormenter and the talented tongue working with his bobbing head almost became too much. With a quiet popping noise, Gary managed a soft exhalation onto the area he had made wet before he came into his hand and Pete's mussed sheets. The breath on his hardened cock had Pete come with a cry of "God, yes, Gary!" onto the egoist's face.

Cleaning them up, Gary crawled up to lie beside the spent boy. "Mine." He murmured sleepily.

* * *

As morning rolled around Pete was duly aware of the fire alarm going off_ again_, and strange warmth surrounding him. Opening his eyes he noted the arm slung over his waist and the snoring directly in his ear. Memories of the previous night flashed through his mind and he smiled at the sleeping genius, planting a gentle kiss on his partially opened lips.

A knock on the door shocked him out of his tranquil reprise. At first he was going to ignore it, but the soft sobs from behind the door made him think twice about it. Rising from Gary's surprisingly sweet embrace, he dressed and made his way to the door. On the other side was a certain Mr. Vendome, battered, bruised and being held at the forearm by an angry Jimmy Hopkins. "Sort it out," he growled handing over the blubbering rich boy. "It's too early for this shit."

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**It's awful isn't it – just awful O_O Ah well XD It was fun to type and it got me my Gord love back xP**

**Look forward to the next chapter **

**R n' R Much love Dristina (aka. MemoryWish)**


	4. Fighting A Losing Battle

**Lonely Fashionisto**

**Warnings: **Language, Adult Situations, Slash Pairings and un-beta'd, incredibly improvised writing.

**Pairings: **Jimmy/Gord, Petey/Gord (Friendship), Gary/Petey.

**Rating: **M

**Summary: **When good-old-Gordo gets booted out of his clique, he makes new friends, new enemies and a brand new lover. "'Loneliness was perhaps a disease,' He thought idly, 'one that spread amongst the lower classes like the plague.'" Jimmy/Gord SLASH

**Disclaimer:** I (unfortunately) don't own these characters. They belong to Rockstar (as far as I know). If I did own them then you can bet your little cotton socks that there'd be plenty more man-lovin' ;)

**Author's Note:** FFFFFFFFFFFF. I forgot about this story entirely. Here, have a chapter.

**Edit:** I noticed a couple of spelling mistakes and such so fixed them...I really need a beta :'D

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**Chapter Four: Fighting A Losing Battle**

After leaving Peter at his door, Gord had stumbled through the looming darkness of the Boy's dormitories, following his feet as they directed him to his bed. All of a sudden with a rather undignified yelp and an unceremonious flail of his arms, he tumbled over, only hoping that the wetness under his hand was water on the ground and not evidence of Algernon being nearby. Humiliated, but managing to stand and regain his balance, he turned to walk out into the cold harsh wind outside.

Only when he was out of the dorms and halfway back to the magnificent building that he once called home did he come to a belated realisation. After Derby had kicked him from the clique he had kicked him out of Harrington house: Gord had nowhere to sleep. This was a travesty! How did _anyone_ expect _Gord Vendome_ to sleep without a bed! That would undoubtedly be uncomfortable, and more than likely spoil his clothes – And that was just not on.

Sighing he turned on his heel. There was no shame in asking for a place to stay for a night, was there? He could double back and request a room from his new, rather financially challenged friend. There were worse places to spend the night (Like a certain evening when he had ended up sleeping in the tenements between a rather tipsy Johnny and a clearly eager Peanut - Just thinking about that night made him shiver). As he approached the door however, sounds of distress met his ears. At once on guard, he braced himself for attack and grasped the doorknob tightly, just about ready to fling it open and mindlessly beat whoever was harming Peter.

"G-Gary~! OH!"

Immediately flushing and turning on his heel, the brunette was storming down the hallway before it really sunk in. Even more so than the shock that little miss goody-goody was boning the school sociopath, was the realisation that he, _Gord Vendome_, had nowhere else to go. Clawing in a self-induced spiral of misery down the grotty hall and into the common-room, he collapsed face first onto the couch that was left there. 'What has become of me? _Me.' _He thought to himself. 'Pinky is never going to let me live this down.'

Several moments of attempting to ignore the foul scent of the overused couch that was assaulting his nostrils, the rich boy pulled himself properly up and curled up on his side. It might not have been the luxury he was used to, but it'd have to do. It was actually a surprisingly comfortable piece of furniture despite it's obviously low price tag and eventually he was beginning to lull into a fitful sleep.

After being plagued with several haunting nightmares a particularly horrific vision flashed before his eyes: a certain blonde haired prep-king was standing above his precious clothes, expensive lighter in hand, cackling like a madman. Luckily enough, just as dream-Derby had dropped his lighter, a noise startled him into waking. Keeping on his side and pretending not to have heard it, Gord kept his head down. From the sound of it, whoever it was hadn't spotted him yet: and he intended to keep it that way.

"Here, pass us some, Trent" someone was whispering urgently, "You're not gunna snort all o' that by yourself, are ya?" "Shut it," came the terse reply a second later. "I'm savin' it for someone else." Loud, cruel laughter broke out amongst the room's occupants. How many were there anyway? Three, maybe four?. "Savin' it for that Kirby kid again, I bet." There were a few more chuckles, some nervous this time. "Don't ask, don't tell, am I right?" "Hey!" A scuffle broke out and Gord was beginning to have trouble holding his breath. There was no doubt about it. Even as the thought crossed his mind he knew it: he was going to be found.

"Lookie, lookie what I found boys!" Gord's previously squeezed shut eyes shot open all of a sudden. Leaning over him like some sort of predatory beast was a grinning Ethan. Backing up to the arm of the couch the Vendome boy shrank back. He might have been one heck of a boxer: but he probably couldn't take all of them on his own. "Well if it isn't Princess-Poofter himself!" Trent commented, smirk in place. Probably just thrilled the attention was off him.

"What is it that you fellows want?" He sneered at them, secretly pleased that despite his fear he had still managed to come across as snobby and conceited. "Not much," Trent had answered, cracking his knuckles, "Just a little fun."This statement was however followed by something that Gord deemed entirely not fun: Trent's fist becoming closely acquainted with Gord's jaw.

He had been _hit_. With a sudden burst of rage, the lithe brunette jumped up from where Trent's blow had knocked him to the floor and managed a counter blow to the blonde boy's stomach. It was inevitable though that he wouldn't win this particular fight and within seconds he was flung against the wall, where his opponents held him.

Trent was pacing back and forth before him, chattering away with his companions. He was yammering on and on about revenge and something about the Hopkins boy and a cinema visit, but Gord wasn't listening. He was too preoccupied wondering when his shirt sleeve had been ripped and who he was going to have to maul in order to avenge it.

"Look," he hissed from where he was now struggling against restraining hands. "I have no idea what you're talking about, so can I go please?" he demanded, glaring at his captor in an indignant manner. Despite there being absolutely nowhere else for him to stay the night, he assured himself that anywhere was preferable to his current situation.

"No, no, no," Trent assured, drawing near and slamming Gord's head against the wall. "You aren't going anyway sweet cheeks." He was grinning then in a way that suggested he'd feel right at home in Happy Volts. "We're gonna fuck you up and put you to sleep rich boy," he chuckled, his hand reaching to toy with the hem of Gord's pants, "among other things."

"What!" The prep doubled his efforts to escape, "What the hell good would that do you!" A harsh laugh answered his question. "There's where you're wrong Preppy. It won't have been _us_ that did this to you, would it?" Here, Trent gripped Gord by the hair and whipped his other hand across the rich boy's face. Still grinning like a hyena, Trent drew close to whisper, "It'll have been Hopkins."

Spitting blood into Trent's face Gord glared. "You're insane. They have tests for this sort of thing. And anyway, if they ask me, I'll tell them it was you!" The faces of the other boys' surrounding him split into grins. "That is if you're around to talk to." As the blonde boy pulled his fist back Gord squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the inevitable impact.

"If he's around to talk to? What? Is he going somewhere?"

Everyone froze at the sound of the voice and turned to face him as Jimmy Hopkins ambled into the common-room. Finishing his soda, he tossed the can in the bin and stared over at Gord. "You going on holiday Vendome? Pfft. Probably Disney-land or some shit." Gord's face contorted as he let tears spill onto his cheeks, he had never been so happy to see such low-town trash in his life. "Jimmy."

Seeming to take the hint, Jimmy dashed to his aid, taking out each of his attackers until Trent was the only one still standing. "You-you haven't heard the last of me Hopkins!" He was stuttering as he backed towards the door. "I-I'll get you!" He was looking frightened and shaken and about to bolt at any second. He just needed a little push. "Boo." And with that, the blonde bully took off down the corridor, wailing like a little girl.

Upon realising that he was no longer being held back, Gord rushed forward to thank his rescuer. He had no doubt he looked a right state and he was hoping that the blood wouldn't be too hard to wash out of his clothes and hair but it didn't seem too significant right then. Pulling Jimmy into a thankful hug he felt nothing but gratitude wash over him.

"Thank you," he whispered when he eventually pulled back (or rather was forcibly removed by the other male), "you saved my life." A moment of hesitation passed before a rare smile spread over Jimmy's features and he lifted a hand to brush a blood-stained lock of hair from Gord's face. "Nothin' to it," he had said, stroking the brunette's hair with his thumb.

Neither boy could comprehend which of them had made the first move but within a matter of seconds their faces had become so close that they could feel each other's breath on their lips. It was warm, and nice and Gord very nearly let out a whimper as they drew even closer. Only a tiny bit more. Just a little- The fire alarm sounded somewhere close, it was early morning and people were beginning to wake up. At once Jimmy sprang back, holding a flustered and rather confused Gord at arm's length.

"We need to get you sorted," he hastily explained, turning and hauling Gord down the corridor. Finally he reached the door he was looking for. Petey could deal with this rich brat. Jimmy had more important things to do. Like kiss girls - Blonde girls - With boobs.

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**Not quite sure what happened in this chapter. It's taken /forever/ for me to post it but in honesty it's been sitting there completed for quite a while. I sort of lost my initial notes on where I was going with this story and then sort of lost my train of thought on it entirely, so I figured 'Screw it, I'm gonna wing it.' **

**I've no idea where this story is going anymore (I remembered my original plot and I've digressed too much to return to it) though I am determined to complete it. I just hope that somehow it'll end up okay. Hope this chapter was alright.**

**Look forward to the next chapter **

**R n' R Much love Dristina (aka. MemoryWish)**


	5. Jealousy Is A Terrible Thing

**Lonely Fashionisto**

**Warnings:** Language, Adult Situations and Slash Pairings – If you don't like it, please leave quietly.

**Pairings:** Jimmy/Gord, Gary/Petey, Petey/Gord (Friendship), One!sided Jimmy x Petey(?)

**Rating:** M

**Summary:** When good-old-Gordo gets booted out of his clique, he makes new friends, new enemies and a brand new lover. "'Loneliness was perhaps a disease,' He thought idly, 'one that spread amongst the lower classes like the plague.'" Jimmy/Gord SLASH

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the story, but by Jove I'd like to own it all. Bully and it's characters belong to Rockstar I do believe.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Jealousy Is A Terrible Thing  
**

Sighing contentedly, Gord allowed the warm water to patter down upon his tense muscles and sooth the aches and pains brought about by the previous nights escapades. He was sore and bruised all over, patches of purple and grey dotted about his usually flawless skin. In the comforting heat of the shower of the bathroom connected to Peter's dorm however he felt the pain dull. It was a nice, peaceful feeling, standing there under the gentle spray, and Gord found that he never wanted to leave it.

After deeming himself suitably clean, the rich boy pushed the door to the little shower open and stepped onto the cold tile floor. Staring at his blood-soaked clothes neatly folded beside the sink he sighed. He could/never/ be seen wearing THOSE. Poking his head out of the bathroom, Gord glanced around to see if he could find Peter anywhere but wasn't quite that lucky. Instead, staring up at him over the top of said femme-boy's diary with a flat expression, was the dorm's other occupant: a very tired-looking Gary Smith.

Smiling knowingly Gord slipped a hand around to door and, holding it up asked, "got any spare clothes?" In a gesture of surprising helpfulness, the socio-path got to his feet, walked across the room, leant to his knees, pulled the draws of his dresser out and rooted around until he found something that he thought might fit the slightly shorter boy. Straightening to his usual height, he stalked across the room and pressed a pile of clothes into Gord's open hand.

Though Gary had shown an oddly kind side by helping him out, said rich boy was not at all intending to cut down on his school-renowned snobbery and as such, he turned his nose up at the offering (though he swiped it from the brunette's hand regardless) before slamming the door.

Alone in the tiny bathroom, Gord turned over the clothes he had been given in his hands. There was a tight fitting cyan t-shirt with some well-known brand name written diagonally across the front, a pair of plain black briefs (that appeared to have never been worn) and a pair of (designer) jeans that were just a little bit snug.

For a moment Gord wondered why Gary always dressed like some sort of homeless person on the weekends when he owned clothes that looked like /this/ but, struggling to come up with an adequate reason, merely gave up and shrugged into them.

Feeling refreshed, clean and somewhat stylish again, Gord emerged from the bathroom with a smile. Quickly though it dropped from his face and he found himself perched nervously at the edge of the only unoccupied bed in the room. Without Peter there, being in the room was a little bit awkward, and the presence of someone who may or may not have been certifiably insane in the corner wasn't helping it any. Nor was being on the receiving end of a pretty intense glare.

"Thanks for the clothes," Gord found himself saying to break the silence, "I must say, for an underprivileged beast, you do seem to have impeccable taste." He had expected Gary to lighten up at his (somewhat) complimentary comment but instead the psychopath's glare merely intensified. Falling silent again, Gord hung his head slightly. The silence was deafening, though when it was finally broken, Gord began to realise that he was better off with it.

"That I do," the taller boy had said, slithering from where he was reclined on his bed to his feet. A few short strides later and he was across the room, using his height as a way to intimidate a rather confused Gord. "Now listen here Vendome," he warned, sounding every bit as insane as people claimed him to be, "You don't touch him, you don't talk to him and you don't take him away from me." Gord didn't have to ask who they were talking about. "Got me?"

No, Gord didn't quite understand what Gary was so riled up for. So what if Peter finally had a friend other than the school's resident crazies? Surely he should have been happy for him. Against his better judgement, Gord stood from the bed and glared hard into furious brown eyes. He wasn't going to let his (now only) friend be treated like an object. "What do you even care, Smith?" Gord shook his head. "Stop speaking about Peter like he's an object. NEWS FLASH! He's not _yours_! He's not a possession. He's-"

He had meant to go on to say that Peter was a person and could make his own decisions but had been cut off by the loud crunch that had resonated as Gary thrust his right fist into the wall beside Gord's head. "You're wrong." Gary said, a threat in his voice as he lowered his head to stare directly into the shorter boy's eyes. "A possession is exactly what he is. And he's mine. You hear me Vendome? My femme-boy."

Gord had begun to shiver at Gary's close proximity, his mind automatically sending him back to the previous night and being pressed against the damp dormitory wall. "Well I-" Gord was cut off again, though this time by talking in the corridor. It sounded like Petey was back and it didn't seem like he was alone. He could be heard yelling, "It was so gross! Honestly, have you no shame!" at whoever he was walking with.

At the sound of his voice, Gary's grin returned and the psychopath took a large step back. "Well, that's my cue shorty, keep what I said in mind, won't you?" he said, stomping towards the door and making off down the hall away from the room.

Stepping into the room was a confused Pete seconds later, glancing over his shoulder as if to check. "Was that Gary just now?" he asked, frowning slightly. Not wanting to worry the boy, Gord cracked a smile, "Indeed it was, my friend. Not too sure where he was off to in such a hurry though. Let me tell you, low town trash these days." Despite the insult to his lover the curly haired boy was smiling when Gord looked over.

"What were you two talking about just now by the way?" He asked, diverting attention from himself and purposefully moving away from the fist sized dent in the plaster beside his head. "Oh." Petey cast Jimmy a sidelong humoured glance and giggled behind his hand. "Well, I was just walking towards the library to start on that history project we got set and I wandered across this one rubbing up against Eunice Pound of all people!" He tittered again and earned a smack on the arm.

In an attempt to move the topic of conversation on, Jimmy pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the door. "You sure you don't know what's got the loony's drawers in a bind?" Having noticed the flaking paintwork on the wall, he eyed Gord suspiciously. "Not an inkling," the brunette drawled innocently, "though if I had to take an educated guess I'd have to say that he's just overtired from being kept up all night." He punctuated his theory with a wink in Petey's direction and the shorter boy's face burned bright red. "Gord!" was the scandalised response.

A frown settled on Jimmy's face and he looked between the other two occupants of the room. He took a look around the rest of the room, taking note of the way Gary's bed was only slightly rumpled (where he had been sat moments ago). "...You're sleeping with him?" Peter hesitated for a moment as he tried to gauge Jimmy's mood. "We...We're going out...sort of," he mumbled into his collar as he seemed to retreat into himself.

"You're an idiot," Jimmy hissed without meeting Peter's eyes. "...Excuse me?" Anger seemed to have been building up in Jimmy since he had pieced it together and finally, spectacularly, exploded from him in the form of a rant. "You're an IDIOT, KOWALSKY!" He took a step towards the curly haired boy and threw his hands out to grab Peter's shoulders tightly. Too tightly. "He's just using you, nothing else, just because he wants someone to mess around with. He doesn't really care about you, you know. You think someone like him could actually like you? Love you!" His fingers tightened. "Why him Petey? Why! Anyone else, please!"

His hands grabbed hopelessly at the front of Peter's shirt. "I can't- I just- You know what, I'm not doing this." With one last furious growl, he turned and stormed out of the dorm room. "He's no good for you, Petey." He said quietly from the corridor before stomping off out of the dormitory.

Gord would have chuckled at the irony of Jimmy mimicking Gary's dramatic exit after calling him all sorts of synonyms of the word crazy, but was too occupied keeping Petey from collapsing into a tearful, quaking puddle. "Shh, it's okay, ignore him. Gary loves you. Shhhh." Holding the shorter boy close, Gord stroked his hair gently and stared at the door after Jimmy. 'And he's not the only one,' he thought, feeling oddly jealous of the sobbing mess in his arms.


End file.
